Our house is full of family and friends from Scotland visiting my landlady and when she was growing up her home was always full of music, as her Dad played the guitar and sang and her brothers have followed suit. Singing is the one thing that brings my landlady’s Mum back from her dementia to the present moment. Each morning someone has been playing the guitar and it was a different style from any that have flowed before and I’ve found my feet tapping as I worked. Yesterday evening I was wrapping up parcels in my workshop as they had a family gathering below. The old Scottish ballads floated on a pure voice and I paused to listen, as my eyes filled with tears.
He gifts joy with his voice and this morning I bumped into him downstairs and was able to tell him so. ❤